A Beautiful Night
by IrishJade
Summary: Gloomy, one-shot. Diego POV. Originally posted 8-1-02.


A Beautiful Night 

**Authoress' Note:** Told from Diego's point of view (of course). This is in no way connected to my fic, _Stand As Three_, this is one-shot (I mean, there's really no where for it to go, is there ?) and yes, I really, really, like getting reviews. I love getting reviews. Logging on and finding out that someone reviewed my story really makes my evening.

Special thanx and gratitude goes to **BlAcKgLoVeS81686** for her encouragement and reviews. Visit her fanfic here : .

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

It's a beautiful night.

The stars above me are bright, shining like specks of human fire. The wind, blowing in from the west, brings with it the promise of cooler weather and maybe a hint of rain. I'm lying on a patch of ground still warm from the day's sun, part of a stone outcrop that juts out over a shallow watering hole. I am upwind of the few nocturnal creatures drinking there; they are unaware of my presence.

So this is the south.

Sabers aren't really migratory animals. I mean, we'll follow the herds as they move during the year, but we've never actively migrated simply because the weather turned colder. 

I use the word 'we'… but it's really just me, now.

Most of the animals here are pitiful. All thin-skinned, scrawny and weak, so used to warmer conditions that if there's a good brisk wind they're ready to hibernate. Revolting ! I…

I… miss the north, the cold and wind and snow. Here… there's too much… too many… 

It's a beautiful night, but I'm not enjoying it.

I guess I'm longing for something familiar. There's nothing familiar here. Nothing… no one… Am I rambling ? Yeah, I know I am. I have no one left to talk to but myself. I always complained that it was too loud, that **_they_** were always so noisy, but I liked it. 

I miss my friends. 

We stuck together, you know, after… after all **_that_** happened. I mean, as crazy as it sounds… we were a herd. A pack. Call it what you will, we were like family. Best of friends. Well, most of the time, anyway. We had our disagreements, but doesn't everybody ?

Sid called us "the weirdest herd ever". I have to agree with him.

Sid lived for another 12 years after I met him; for a sloth, that's really quite remarkable. His habit of riding slowly became one of necessity until he was doing it all the time. Manny always obliged him; it was never hard, as Sid never got any bigger -- well, length wise, at least -- but I think it went deeper than that. I know it did. I guess Manny and I were trying to ignore his grey fur turning silver. Hell, I was trying to ignore MY fur turning silver.

Every night Manfred would lift Sid (usually already asleep) into a tree and then, in the morning, lift him down again for the day's travel. One morning he… just didn't wake up.

Everything had just seemed so… quiet, after that. The silence I once jokingly begged for became painful.

The nocturnal creatures have scented me… they are leaving, and very quickly at that. I should probably run one of them down for my dinner; I haven't eaten today. But my heart's not in it. Hunting, I mean. I've gotten pretty good at hunting by myself. With careful planning and a little bit of luck I can take down something as large as an elk and then not need to hunt again for a few days. It's a good arrangement, one I've adopted after years of picking up small animals on the trail. Manny always gave me a peculiar look when I returned during the night.

Nights… like this one, those beautiful nights.

Manny… he was always the quiet one. Stoic and silent, he hid a secret from Sid and I that had he not accidentally given away, I would probably never have known about at all. I discovered that his eyesight had been slowly fading over the years, until her was blind in one eye and nearly so in the other. With his typical stubbornness, he hadn't said a thing, I wouldn't have known about it at all if he hadn't nearly walked off the edge of a ravine the pair of us were crossing.

After that, I tried to put the two of us on flatter terrain. When he was unsure of the footing, he'd extend his trunk to touch my shoulder until the ground leveled out again. I never said anything when he did this, and neither did he. It must have hurt his pride, but he never said a word about it.

I know it's not my fault… what happened… but I still feel guilty about it. If I had only been there a moment sooner… Been just that much faster…

We were in a particularly mountainous area, trying to make it over the ridge before dusk, so we were pushing ourselves faster than usual. We both heard the howls. 

"Wolves." Manny had said.

"Wild ones." I had agreed.

I'm still not entirely sure what happened that night. I saw the slinking shapes ahead of us on the trail, told Manny to wait until I cleared the area ahead. I could fight them off easily. They were wolves, slightly faster than me but certainly not stronger, less agile.

I should have realized they'd be the decoys, though.

By the time it dawned on me… it was too late. I spun around and ran back to where I'd left Manny, but he wasn't there. They'd herded him over the edge of the ridge. The fall wasn't large enough to seriously hurt him, but by the time I'd got there… the wolves were already there.

I can tell myself that it wasn't my fault, but I don't believe it. 

It's a beautiful night, but I don't notice.

I ran after that, became more of a rogue than I already was, herdless, packless, friendless. I hunted only when I absolutely had to; even then, I hated myself for doing it. It was a constant reminder of… what I no longer had.

So here I am, alone.

It's a beautiful night out here, under the stars.

I wish it wasn't.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Fin.


End file.
